The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 219

Unbound by internal energy, learning [the technique] had no level restrictions. When the manual in his inventory vanished, Jiang Fei had officially mastered the Dugu Nine Swords. Eagerly, he opened his character stats to check:

Character: Jiang Fei
Level: 3
EXP: 3407/3500
Stamina: 2.6
Spirit: 3.7
Agility: 3.6
Strength: 2.8
Unallocated Points: 0

Martial Skills:

• Triple Cloud Leap (Lv. 1, 0/100)

• Incomplete Taiji Fist (Lv. 1, 0/200)

• Qimen Dunjia Arts (Lv. 0, 0/100)

• Dugu Nine Swords (0/500)
  Available Skill Points: 518.7

Secondary Professions:
Weapon Forging (Lv. 9), Botany (Lv. 9), Culinary Arts (Lv. 9), Horticulture (Lv. 9), Music (Lv. 9), Brewing (Lv. 9), Taming (Lv. 9), Medicine (Lv. 8 + 3%)…

Gold: 2509

Staring at his stats, Jiang Fei grinned so wide his cheeks ached.

“This luck is insane!” he screamed inwardly, barely containing his excitement.

First, after completing the “Save Traditional Medicine” quest, he’d not only received the Dugu Nine Swords manual but also a bonus 300 EXP. Though with his Jiang Clinic now generating steady EXP, he no longer prized it as much as before. Still, free EXP was free EXP—he wasn’t complaining.

Second, his gold should’ve been depleted. Before the conference, he’d spent 1,050 gold on taming potions, leaving roughly 3,500. During the event, to save two patients, he’d bought four Bezoar Blood-Clot Pills and Jade Dragon Revival Powder, costing 2,000 gold. By rights, he should’ve had only 2,500 left—yet his wallet now showed 3,509.

The quest had quietly rewarded him 1,000 gold too!

A windfall! With 1,000 gold, he could buy plenty in the system’s shop: elixirs, disposable weapons, you name it.

But what thrilled him most was the skill points for Dugu Nine Swords.

Level 1 required 500 points—far more than Triple Cloud Leap’s 50 or Taiji Fist’s 120. That alone spoke volumes about its power. With a sword in hand, he’d be unstoppable, a force beyond those lesser skills.

Miraculously, he had just enough: 518.7 points, saved up for exactly this moment.

“Hah! Of course! When you’re this handsome and virtuous, even the heavens help you out!” he gloated silently.

For ages, he’d hoarded points, even after leveling up and unlocking Qimen Dunjia Arts. He’d figured, “Why waste them now? Save for emergencies.”

That foresight had paid off. Had he splurged earlier, learning Dugu Nine Swords would’ve been impossible. 500 points equated to 5,000 EXP—a grind he’d have dreaded.

“I’m a genius for planning ahead!”

Suppressing his glee, he tapped “Upgrade Dugu Nine Swords.”

Ding! “Congratulations! Dugu Nine Swords proficiency raised to Lv. 1!”

A flood of insights surged into his mind—an intangible “sword intent” took root, its nuances beyond words. Now, with a blade, he could execute all its techniques flawlessly.

Of course, mastery had three tiers. At Lv. 1, he could wield the moves, but not with the finesse of legends like Dugu Qiubai or Feng Qingyang.

His updated stats showed:

• Available Points: 18.7

• Dugu Nine Swords: Lv. 1 (0/800)

The next level cost 300 more points—steep, but manageable compared to other skills.

Too pumped to stay still, Jiang Fei vaulted out of bed. He needed to test this legendary swordplay now.

Just then, the door opened. Bai Ruoxi, dressed in loungewear with her hair loosely tied, entered holding a newspaper. She eyed him worriedly, pressing a hand to his forehead.

“You’re up already? Are you fully recovered?”

Jiang Fei had collapsed post-surgery yesterday, though his heightened awareness let him recall Cui Xiuping bringing them home.

“I wasn’t sick—just exhausted. Twelve hours of sleep fixed that,” he said, flexing. “Good as new.”

After scrutinizing his lively demeanor, Bai Ruoxi relaxed. “Then why were you laughing so hard earlier?”

Jiang Fei couldn’t exactly say, “Oh, I just mastered a god-tier sword style.” Instead, he shrugged. “Just remembering how those Western medics scurried away yesterday.”

Spotting the newspaper, he changed the subject. “Did they cover the conference?”

Bai Ruoxi handed it over, her face proud. “Not much about the event. Most articles are about you.”

Flipping through, Jiang Fei beamed. The praise was glorious—national outlets hailing him as a miracle-working healer, a national treasure!

“Not bad,” he murmured, ego soaring. Few earned such unanimous acclaim from state-level press. And this wasn’t empty flattery—it was genuine admiration.

“Traditional medicine should ride this wave,” he mused. “Boost its influence nationwide.”

Bai Ruoxi, indifferent to medical politics, added, “Cui Xiuping asked you to call him. The TCM Society’s waiting to hold an inauguration ceremony for their new president—you.”

Jiang Fei waved it off. Becoming Society Head wasn’t a priority. Instead, he dialed Ye Yuanyuan.

“What?” Her voice was crisp as ever, no pleasantries.

“What? I should be asking! At the conference, the Poison King tampered with things. Did you catch him yet?”

“He’s dead,” she replied flatly.

“Dead? That fast?” Jiang Fei blinked. “What about the mastermind?”

A pause. Unusual for her.

“…Fled abroad,” Ye Yuanyuan finally said, her tone uncharacteristically heavy. “We’re still chasing a key subordinate.”